


Plunge

by Astrarian



Series: Writer's Month, August 2020 [6]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Writer's Month 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrarian/pseuds/Astrarian
Summary: “I wanna swim,” Rachel says, suddenly feeling bold.“You what?”“You heard me. Do you?” Rachel asks. She slips her jacket off. Even though it’s not cold, goosebumps rise on her arms.(Writer's month 2020 - Day 6: ocean)
Relationships: Rachel Amber/Chloe Price
Series: Writer's Month, August 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861909
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23
Collections: Writer's Month 2020





	Plunge

Before Rachel knows what’s happening, the now-empty bottle of wine they’ve been passing around the fire smashes against the base of the rock opposite Rachel and Chloe. It’s only a few yards away and all four of them shriek at the impact. At her shoulder, Rachel feels Chloe flinch. They lose contact, and Rachel pouts for a moment.

“What the fuck, Justin?” Chloe yells, jumping to her feet so quickly that Rachel’s left a little in awe, pretty sure she’d topple over if she tried to get up that fast right now.

“What—” Justin answers, breathless with laughter— “it was nowhere near you guys. You’re fine. Right, Rachel?”

Rachel shrugs, too buzzed to care about them, just like they’re too buzzed to really give a shit about her and Chloe. Chloe doesn’t know the boys like Rachel does though and glares at her. Rachel looks at her feet. She curls them in the scratchy sand in place, then tilts her head to watch the sand sparkle. Beyond, shards of broken glass add another layer of glitter.

“Nowhere near?” Chloe repeats. “Jesus Christ, you could’ve taken our fucking heads off!”

Trevor’s laughing as well, far too wasted to even care that he snorts in the middle of it. Rachel notices though; wrinkles her nose.

“That was awesome,” he says to Justin. “Did you hear that smash?”

“Dude, super satisfying, bang!” Justin agrees, grinning, throwing his hands wide, the tip of their blunt glowing orange between his fingers. He’s got a wide-eyed, shiny expression on his face. Happy. And greasy. His wispy little moustache clings to his upper lip as he laughs.

Suddenly, Rachel’s had enough of their company for the time being. “Chloe, hey, relax, s’fine,” she says, looking up at Chloe again.

“It’s not fine, it’s stupid.”

“Stop worrying about it, it doesn’t matter. They don’t care,” Rachel says, smiling. Chloe’s hair seems all the more blue in the combination of firelight and moonlight, and when she rolls her eyes, Rachel’s smile widens into a grin.

She lifts her arms up towards Chloe. “Hey, let’s go. Help me up. Gotta wash my feet.”

“The hell?” Chloe says, still bristling, yet not as snappy as before.

“You’ve got shoes on and there’s glass and stuff. Help me.”

“So put your own shoes on.”

Rachel wiggles her fingers. “I’ll just have to take them off again in a minute. C’mon.”

Chloe sighs loudly, but she gives in, like Rachel knew she would. Rachel’s flushing, body buzzing from wine and weed, so it’s no surprise that Chloe’s fingers feel cold when they link with her own. The sensation is refreshing.

She starts to pull and squeezes Chloe’s long fingers as she does, wondering whether it warms her up. Chloe sways for a moment and chuckles, “Whoa, Rach, hang on there a sec.”

“Mmm, hurry it up, Price, I wanna get out of here,” Rachel teases, looking at Chloe’s short nails and the red ribbon of her new tattoo snaking up her arm and disappearing beneath her jacket, out of sight. Rachel’s seen it already, of course. But seeing it up close again makes her want another look.

Chloe tugs her upright, saying, “Don’t move, I’ll check for glass,” and Rachel’s careful to keep her feet in place as instructed. But she overbalances, and she’s lucky she steps on Chloe’s shoe rather than on the glass she’s trying to avoid as she topples forward.

Chloe catches her. “Jesus, how blazed are you?” she laughs in Rachel’s ear, the moodiness completely gone from her voice, and Rachel becomes hyper-aware of their hug, her body in Chloe’s arms. The buzzing sensation shivering across her skin gathers strength.

But that makes sense. She’s just stood up, after all.

“Not enough, too much, just right,” she answers playfully, truthfully, gripping Chloe’s arms.

Trevor and Justin break from their giggling long enough to question, “Where you going?”

“Down the beach, just gonna get some fresh air,” Rachel says.

Justin takes a deliberate drag on the joint. “Lightweight,” he teases.

“Hardly,” Rachel answers with a grin, pointing to her open bag and the visible neck of another bottle of wine. Being able to swipe alcohol from her parents on occasion has its perks. “I can go all night.”

Draped around Chloe as she is, she feels more than sees Chloe tense up, and she squeezes her a little tighter to try to make her stop. There’s nothing for the boys to see. Even if there was— _even if there was_ —Justin and Trevor wouldn’t notice it unless she literally kissed Chloe in front of them, and even then they wouldn’t take it seriously unless she—

Well.

“Save me some,” she says to them, taking an especially big step on to the beach away from the broken glass, tugging Chloe after her. Chloe mutters to herself, and Rachel lets her without comment, because it’s only a couple of steps to unblemished sand. 

Even when she’s free and clear, she doesn’t step out of Chloe’s space, instead tugging on her hand again.

“Wait, so, you _weren’t_ joking about washing your feet?” Chloe asks.

“Would you just be quiet?”

Chloe acquiesces, letting Rachel lead her diagonally down the beach. Rachel doesn’t talk either. It’s nice to just let her head clear for a minute... Except it doesn't really, because she’s still drunk, and not even just from the wine. The stars are starting to come out behind the clouds, and the rushing sound of breaking waves is growing louder, and Chloe’s fingers feel warmer in hers.

Where the sand gets damp, Rachel stops and lets go of Chloe. She turns to face her, glancing left and right and then over the taller girl’s shoulder. They’ve left Justin and Trevor behind, only the glow of the fire visible back down the beach, and there’s no one else around.

“You all right?” Chloe says.

“Mm, yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna swim,” Rachel says, suddenly feeling bold.

“You what?”

“You heard me. Do you?” Rachel asks. She slips her jacket off. Even though it’s not cold, goosebumps rise on her arms.

Chloe laughs. “Uh, hello, obviously not.”

“I’ve never swum at night. I bet you haven’t either.”

“I don’t mind losing that bet. You’ll freeze your tits off.”

“It’s not even cold. Anyway, they’re my tits, I can do what I want with them,” Rachel replies, grinning already, and if she straightens her posture a little and cocks her hip, that’s Chloe’s fault for giving her an irresistible set-up. “But nice to know you care about them.”

Chloe scoffs, with Rachel watching the way her mouth opens and her teeth clamp around her lip. She takes in a breath to speak—

And Rachel interrupts. “Just kidding,” she says, winking.

“Fuck off.”

God, it’s so easy to needle Chloe. It’s so fun. And it’s so good when Chloe fails to contain her smile like now, instead of frowning—but there have been more frowns than smiles lately, and even these smiles that Rachel works hard to draw out have a hint of a shadow in them. She can think of at least three or four things now that would definitely make Chloe splutter slightly, but she doesn’t say or do them yet. Not before letting Chloe have another chance to give up a smile of her own accord.

“I don’t want to swim on my own,” she says instead.

Chloe shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. I’ll just make sure you don’t drown.”

“You’re missing out,” Rachel says, sighing. “But fine—I need someone to watch my clothes too,” she adds cheekily, dropping her hands to the button of her jeans.

“Your clothes?” Chloe predictably splutters.

Rachel begins to slide her jeans off, careful not to accidentally drag her underwear down too. The thought of doing so intentionally flashes through her, hot in her veins, and she has to steady herself.

“You’re too easy,” she tells Chloe, meaning it—but not as an insult, not at all.

“Fuck off!”

“Well, I’m not gonna wear my jeans, am I?”

Perhaps predictably, when she bends down to fully remove her feet from her jeans, she overbalances. She falls forward onto her shoulder, and she’s pretty pleased with how she turns it into a roll, such that she sprawls across the sand on her back. Chloe comes in close, hovering directly above her.

“Shit, Rach, you okay?” she asks, holding Rachel’s shoulders and pulling her into a sitting position, looking right at her.

Sheltered like that, Rachel holds on to Chloe again. “Show me this again,” she says, turning Chloe’s wrist over to show her the end of her tattoo, dragging her thumb over Chloe’s bracelets before she presses against the bright red ink. “I’m gonna get one.”

“Never really took you for a copycat,” Chloe says.

“Good, ‘cause I’m not. But I want it to… wind up my leg, a bit like yours.”

“Your… leg?” Chloe asks, shrugging her arm out of the jacket, still staring directly at Rachel and very definitely only at Rachel. Her arm prickles as she exposes it. “Uh, your whole leg?”

“No,” Rachel says, abruptly aware that she’s really not cold. Not at all. “My calf. Here.”

She dares to take Chloe’s other hand and guide it down to her right ankle. Naturally they have to move closer together, Rachel bending and Chloe twisting. She hears Chloe breathe in deeply, over and over while Rachel draws their joined hands slowly up the side of her calf, shivering at the touch.

She can’t tell how fast Chloe’s heart is beating despite how close they are, but it has to be as fast as her own. It has to be.

It’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. How Chloe responds to her. Chloe wants her. And it’s not like Chloe doesn’t know that Rachel wants her, too. They’ve kissed. They’ve kissed often enough that Rachel knows it means something more, so often that it’s driving Rachel out of her mind half the time.

“To about here,” she says to Chloe, stopping just below her knee.

She’s warm everywhere, shocks sparkling in her fingers and her torso and especially between her legs. _Fuck it,_ she tells herself, _just fuck it_. But she loses her nerve as she thinks it, and she lets go of both Chloe’s hand and her arm, losing the moment entirely. Chloe’s hand lingers for a moment, then drops away as well.

“You said it wasn’t cold,” Chloe mutters. “Beg to differ.”

Rachel pushes Chloe’s shoulder lightly and leans over to finish extracting her feet from her jeans. “It’s just because I’m not moving,” she argues. She should’ve been embarrassed to be seen splayed out with her pants around her ankles in public. Should’ve. Wasn’t.

She can’t kiss her. It’ll mean too much. She’ll like it too much. She’s too young to be in love.

She breathes in deeply and faces Chloe directly. “Sure you’re not coming?”

“No way.”

Rachel stands up quickly. Briefly she considers whether it’ll be better to take off her shirt or her bra ( _both_ , whispers part of her brain, _both, fuck it!_ ) and decides on her shirt. Commando is more of a tease—wearing just her bra in front of Justin and Trevor later is more likely to make them overtly stupid, instead of amusingly flustered. Chloe will be flustered either way.

So will Rachel.

“Your loss,” she says, tossing her t-shirt into Chloe’s lap. Chloe watches her, expression intent. “Hope you change your mind.”

She spins on her heel and heads for the water, the surf glowing where the moon occasionally breaks through the clouds. It will be cold, regardless of all her bravado, and she needs that. Normally she’s a little reticent to jump straight in, even with all her ocean experience. Today, almost as soon as the water bites her feet she’s clumsily jumping forward, jumping in. She’s gone too soon—the water’s far too shallow—but she’s keen for the cold to scare Chloe out of her system.

For those seconds as she scrambles forward into deeper water, gasping, all of her body focused on the shock of immersion, it works. Everything clears: bright and sharp, salty and so, so cold.

Behind her, up the beach somewhere, she hears Chloe laughing.

She almost feels sick as the wanting shivers start, stinging the inside of her abdomen. She shuts her eyes and dives under the water, listening to the way the rush of the ocean echoes the rush of her blood. Submerged, bubbles tickling her skin, she aches.

“F-fuck!” she shouts as she surfaces, blinking salt out of her eyes, pushing her loose hair back out of her face. 

“Having fun?” she hears Chloe call distantly.

“Fuck!” she yells again, and dives under the water again to stop thinking about every image that conjures up: Chloe saying that in bed; Chloe’s eyes darkening above her as they rove over her body; Chloe’s warm lips on hers, before they make their way down slowly, so slowly...

But she’s acclimatised now. The mental images don’t stop. She can’t get rid of her desire. All she can do is ride it out or act on it.

She breaks the surface, gasping. Her nipples are hard, painfully hard, and she’s wet. She doesn’t have breath available to groan, and she’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, because she knows it would be an undeniable noise, and then Chloe might come down here—Chloe might come down here—

She’s not far out, and it only takes a couple of strokes for her to reach a depth where she can kneel on the sand. The tidal currents flow around her, pushing her gently from side to side. She’s caught in something bigger than she is, something she can’t deny any more.

Ride it out or act on it.

Almost entirely concealed under the water, she skims her hand over her breasts, down her exposed stomach, and presses between her legs.

The relief is immediate. She gasps, or whines, her hips rocking forward into her own touch. It probably wouldn’t take very long—

But she doesn’t have even half that long, because Chloe’s calling her name. Desperately turned on, she rubs urgently for a moment, shivering, holding her breath, aching with pleasure. It’s not enough.

“Rach, c’mon, get out,” Chloe says, her voice much nearer. “You’ve had your fun.”

It’s not enough, but it has to be.

When she opens her eyes, Chloe’s right by the water, holding Rachel’s clothes to her chest. Rachel gets to her feet, not quite stumbling her way out of the ocean to Chloe’s side.

“Okay?” Chloe asks.

“Okay.”

“Feel clean?”

“Yeah,” Rachel lies.

“You’re crazy,” Chloe says, though she sounds impressed. When Rachel looks at her, she sees a genuine grin on her face that makes her want to kiss her and run from her all at once.

“Turn around,” she says, teeth chattering. “I’ve gotta…” 

“‘Kay, here.” Chloe hands Rachel her stuff and dutifully turns away. 

Quick as she can, Rachel strips off her underwear. She uses her t-shirt to quickly wipe away the worst of the water and then forces herself into her jeans. Then she goes to put the t-shirt back on, but changes her mind when she realises she can just wear her jacket by itself. It’s tight, and fairly uncomfortable, but at least she’s dry.

She can barely look at Chloe, even with her back turned. Her arms are crossed and her hip’s cocked. It’s hot, and Rachel ducks her head, squeezing her eyes closed against the onslaught of emotion.

God, imagine if Chloe had realised what she was going to do.

Imagine.

Abruptly overtaken by a wave of exhaustion, she says quietly, “I’m done.” 

“Okay—Rachel?” Chloe asks, sounding concerned.

“I’ll be fine. Just tired. Cold water, you know?”

“Sure,” Chloe says obediently.

“Let’s go back.”

“Okay.”

They amble up the beach in silence. Chloe slings her arm around Rachel’s shoulders, and Rachel stiffens, her throat tightening up. But Chloe doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’re hella badass, you know,” Chloe says to her, knocking her head against Rachel’s gently. She means every word in spite of Rachel’s numerous, obvious failings.

Rachel swallows hard. “I don’t think so,” she says. Nevertheless, she leans a little bit closer when Chloe squeezes her shoulders.

“Come on, Rach. Get real. I don’t have the balls.”

Rachel just shakes her head, unable to speak. _Neither do I,_ she thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Please take appropriate care if you go swimming in cold water (that's anything below 15°C/59°F) <3
> 
> The risk of heart attack or drowning is no joke.


End file.
